


Knock, knock, do you heal me?

by jajafilm



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, House M.D.
Genre: Alex is hurt, Crossover, Mystery, Secret Identity, Spy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-05-23 16:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14937899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jajafilm/pseuds/jajafilm
Summary: Dr. House took into his care an unusual patient, young man who was shot into shoulder, who had an outstretched ankle and broken ribs. However, House isn't a type of doctor who takes patients with an uninteresting diagnosis. Why did he do it? Everyone thinks he wants to solve the riddle, who the patient is, and how a fourteen-year-old kid came to such injuries, but House doesn't do it. In addition, he behaves completely strangely.





	1. 1

#  Knock, knock, do you heal me?

 

The sun was shining and no clouds were in the sky. It was a beautiful day and there was a brisk rush on the corner of Baker Street, just like any other day. Cars drive back and forth. People were hurrying to work or school, and none of them almost seemed to have time to help, or even to notice a blonde young man who was screaming with a crowd. Why also? He didn't look strange except that, he had no shoes, he was pale as the wall, he had black shadows under his eyes, blond hair glued with clay and blood, he was holding his right hip, and he limped on one leg. Probably everyone had a lot of work to do or they said: “Another junkie in the neighborhood.”

But the young man didn't even expect that somebody could help him. Somebody could hardly, but there was one man... Finally! He hobbled to the house number 221B and squeezed the old bell on a pretty clean and nice wall. He waited. It took a good five minutes for the oak door to open and he could look into the cool blue eyes of the homeowner. The young man smiled faintly, whispered something, and then collapsed directly to the surprised blue-eyed man.

The house owner managed to catch the young man, but he himself swayed and his stick fell to the floor. He vulgarly cursed. The blue-eyed man laid the young man cautiously on the ground and checked the pulse. Thank God the young man “just fainted”. Apparently out of too much blood loss.

The older man sighed loudly and pulled mobile phone out his black jeans. “One ambulance car at the corner of Baker Street number 221B. He is shot on the right side, unconscious perhaps because of the lack of blood, but it is likely to be far more. Take him to the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital to the diagnostic department of Dr. Gregory House,” he ordered and put the phone back in his pocket.


	2. 2

Dr. Chase tapped with a nail at the glass table top. Dr. Foreman, at the head of the table next to him, watched him with interest of a good zoologist. He counted, how many times for minute Dr. Chase makes this move, and he was interested if Chase's tempo is accelerating, slowing down or staying constant this minute. Which has led to many more interesting questions, namely: What would it mean if his tempo was changed? Is he bored or nervous, and why is he nervous about what?

While Dr. Chase and Dr. Foreman was playing this children's game, Dr. Cameron was sitting at the computer on the other side of the room and writing the email, which, she hoped, it will help children in Somalia.

The glass door to the room opened and theirs boss finally walked inside. He held the stick in one hand and in the other the blue folder, which he threw on the table in the footer, right in front of Chas's face. Chase flinched, which earned House's pleased smile.

“Patient, one shot on his side, fatigue, collapse probably from a large loss of blood. Ankle distortion and possibly fracture of several bones, brain quiver and suspicion of some drugs or poisons. Stabilize him, treat wounds, do a complete blood analysis. I want tests to see if he has something in him and if so, what. Find out if he has any injuries yet, if he has no internal bleeding, and then give him vicodin and if vicodin doesn't work, give him morphine,” he shouted at his team and limped to the coffee maker as if nothing. But no one moved from the team. They sat and stared at him in surprise. House noticed that and after a while he with considerable irritation turned to them.

“Didn't you hear me?!” he barked at them.

“Yes, but...” Dr. Cameron began.

“So what are you doing here? Should I make a written request?!” he spat on her, and his team finally got up, shocked by House's behavior, but none dare to protest or say anything, so they headed for the door. “Hey, wait,” House growled. “Cuddy doesn't have to know that, as much like the rest of the hospital. The fewer people the better. If he gets up, don't ask him to anything. Everyone lies, especially those who have bullet in their hips.”

The doctors nodded and quickly disappeared.


	3. 3

Dr. Cameron lost her voice. Now when she could see the patient, that strange Houses behavior, and why he decided to take this boy into his care, it seemed clearer. He was still young. He could be a maximum of twenty-one years old. The truth, by law he is already adult, but who is adult in 21? Who feels and behavior in that age as an adult? Well, no one should say anything, but there was basically a child on the hospital bed. Yes surely, she married, when she was even younger than him, and saw her husband die. She worked at the hospital under House, she saw dying even younger people, but this was a bit different.

The young man, as House said, was shot, had ankle distortion and broken two ribs, but as she could see when she looked at him, such an injury in his life was nothing new. His body was covered with a series of bruises, scratches, flayed skin, and a myriad of scars of different shapes but also old age. Cameron didn't have to be an expert, not even a doctor, to realize that he was exposed to an outrageous tyranny, and that they were torturing him. Several times!

The patient seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but under the eyelids were visible movement and he was breathing heavily. He dreamed and his eyebrows were tightly pulled together. From that, the doctor could have estimated that, the dream wasn't pleasant. She wouldn't be surprised if the young man suffered from nightmares. With a sigh she came to him, motherly she stroked his face and she ruffled his blond, now washed, fine hair. The boy was smirking for a moment, as if he weren't sleeping, and he was grateful for the manifest sympathy and tenderness, what Dr. Cameron provided to him.

“Whether you have done any wrongdoing or getting involved in anything… No one have had the right to such terrible brutality that you have been exposed to. I don't know what obsessed House, that he has decided to heal you, but whatever it was, I am glad for it. I just don't understand why he wants to keep you hidden in front of Cuddy and the whole hospital. Does he know anything more than we? Or is it one of his usual foolishness? You know, it's a pretty crazy guy, but he's a great doctor. Our whole team is good. Don't worry, we'll heal you. It'll be fine again, everything will be fine. You're safe now. Now I'm taking pattern of your blood for tests. We need to make sure that the list of your injuries is final and that no one tried to poison you,” the doctor informed him, as if he was awake. The young man didn't respond, so Dr. Cameron returned to work.


	4. 4

“Today I'm just going to have a salad. I decided to live healthy,” House said loudly to the waiter behind the counter in the hospital canteen. Dr. Wilson rolled his eyes. He knew that under the whole heap of cabbage, lettuce and other vegetables, steak with French fries was hiding, but having just a salad is cheaper than just buying the steak with French fries. But he didn't say anything, so the waiter unconsciously wanted price just for salad. Excellent, another House's victory over the system! Wilson shook his head in disbelief, paying his own steak.

“You could at least sometimes don't cheat, don't manipulate people and not be...” he whispered to his friend as they headed for one of the free tables.

“What, don't be House?” House finished. “Hmmm, I don't think so. That would bore you,” was his answer.

House and Wilson sat down at table next to window, and House began to separate the vegetables from the other food to get to the steak. Wilson watched him with tension and didn't touch his food.

“What?” growled House and stuffed a piece of steak into his mouth.

“I'm watching you,” Wilson replied.

“Yeah, I noticed. Always when you have this expression on your face, I did something, something you think is unimaginable and insane. Usually I know what it is and I try to deny it and lie, but this time I don't know what it is. So you could tell me so we could fall into the natural order of things,” House urged his friend.

“But I think you know very well what this is about this time,” Wilson said. “You have taken the patient into your care...”

“Wow, seriously?! This is against hospital rules, you and Cuddy should throw me away immediately,” House laughed sarcastically.

“From a diagnostic point of view, not an interesting case,” Wilson signaled the whole mystery, and House's face brightened in understanding.

“Clearly from a diagnostic point of view not very interesting, but who claims there are only diagnostic mysteries?” House said.

“A boy with a gunshot wound, ankle rupture and a two-rib fracture and a lot of scars and minor injuries… You haven't mysterious disease but the patient.”

“Exactly,” House nodded. “By the way, who are going to lose their jobs? Which of the three was it? Who told you that? I told them clearly to keep quiet.”

“Did you tell them not to tell anyone, not to Cuddy?!” he ignored House's question.

“Yeah.”

“House! What the hell did you think?! It's very clear that the kid is involved in something unlawful. I understand you didn't tell me, but Cuddy! It's her hospital. She should know what risk is when this kid is here,” Wilson was upset.

“Exactly that he's involved in something dangerous, and it's better for no one to know about him. The less people knew about him, the less likely, that information will get to the wrong ears and those who go after him, attack the hospital,” House tried to explain the situation.

“People who go after him... They will attack the hospital!” Wilson repeated with shock. “Jesus! House, who are they, that you count that still someone comes for him and you order tests for all drugs and poisons?! You risk not only your life but also the lives of people in the whole hospital, just because of your puzzle, that is crazy even for you!”

“Yeah, I'm a terrible psychopath if I want to save someone for once as a doctor,” he grinned, and Wilson exploded.

“No, no, no, nooooo!” Wilson shook his head and raised hand with his raised forefinger in so much known gesture, the mothers who talk to the naughty child. Don't try to pretend that you are a kind person, because damn you are not,” he wanted to continue his lecture, but then he froze with a mouth ridiculously open to the letter "O" and his hand still raised. “… if I want to save someone for once as a doctor…” he finally croaked.

“Today you gonna repeat everything what I say? Because if so, our lunch will be much longer,” House said flippantly. However, Wilson didn't react to it.

“All the time you're trying to convince me that you care about him, because that patient is mysterious, but if it really was, you wouldn't be here with me, but you would already be looking for who it is, where you live, what state, city street, you could break in, go to school or work. You would trying to break into a government or police database. You would want his medical records and contact his relatives because even if people lie, they usually don't agree with one version, and the more they lie, the more you can see the truth.”

“This is not exactly a description of how it works,” House pointed out.

“You don't interest about that boy. That sentence...” Wilson returned to the sentence, which he had repeated after House. House raised a questioning eyebrow. “The sentence should sound a lot of irony, but you know, whatever you try to do, it doesn't sound it when it's really true. You don't interesting about diagnosis, not even for a mysterious patient. You're heal him, because you want to heal him. You want to help him,” Wilson said.

“So your conclusion is that I'm helping him because I just want help,” House said. “As I said, I am definitely kind person and you just don't want to believe me. He is a poor wounded boy who knocked me on the door with this request for help. What I would be, if I didn't take him under my protective,” House smiled, throwing innocent puppy gaze on his friend/colleague.

“Yes, my conclusion is that you help him because you want... because you know him.” For a moment, the House was only looking at Wilson with that expression, which that none of his colleagues, friends or patients liked. It was a look, when he didn't look at you, but into you. Wilson shook nervously. Now House was about to get up and walk away with his brilliant idea, but that didn't happen. When House finally answered, Wilson winced in alarm.

“I help him because I can’t refuse him. I owe it to him,” he finally admitted silently, and Wilson thought that House owed him too, but he did not say anything. He had enough reason to judge Hous's tone, what he was talking about, and how Hous's blue eyes slid somewhere down to his shoes, that the debt would be far greater than the sum of all his debts to him. He had good sense to judge Hous's tone, what he was talking about, and how Hous's blue eyes slid somewhere down to his shoes, that the debt would be far greater than the sum of all what debts to Wilson.

“OK, good,” Wilson nodded. “You know each other, so you don't call relatives, you don't break into his house and you don't care what he does and what happened to him...” No, House wouldn't be stop to distort anyone in private, although he knows the kid. On the contrary, that would be another reason. Plus, now the kid was his patient so that he could heal him well, he had another reason. Wilson thought. Damn, even to him House don't give a moment of peace and he thinks he is his best friend, the only one whom House has. “Because you know all of that?!” he finally came to a conclusion.

“Don't be an idiot, even a husband with a wife, a parent and son, or friends, barely know anything about themselves. Of course, that I don't know,” House said. “I just know that I don't want to know it.”

The answer surprised Wilson. He couldn't believe his ears. House doesn't want to know something? Wilson couldn't do anything. He just sat in his chair and stared shocked at his friend whom he thought he had known almost his entire life. However, now he wasn't sure if someone had replaced him and that man who is sitting in front of him is really House.

“Will you still be the fries? If not…” the intruder asked suddenly and stared at French fries on Wilson's plate. He licked his lips.

“Sure, you can just take it,” Wilson waved his hand and House took his plates.


	5. 5

Dr. Cameron, Dr. Chase and Dr. Foreman sat in the lab and tested. Very fun activity, but they didn't like it, especially Foreman. Dr. Foreman sighed frustratedly.

“What is wrong?” asked Dr. Chase.

“It's absurd,” Forman said, but he doesn’t explain anything to his two colleagues.

“What do you mean?” Chase forced him to answer.

“Everything. Patient, we and House, mainly House,” he summed it simply.

“It is a little strange, that he take such a case, and his behavior. On the other hand, however, he is weird and he is unimaginably behaving in one piece. I am amazed that you is still surprised,” Chase shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, it behaves strangely and unpredictably every day, but mostly it has a crazy House's character, but now it's not. It's just weird. I understand, that he didn't care about this boy because interesting diagnosis, but because of the guess who he is, but he didn't say anything about it to the police and Cuddy...” began to explain Foreman.

“I'm not saying it is okay, that I am agreeing with it. It's crazy, but it's House. It is obvious; that his anger in the morning is wasn't normally for him. Instead of doing one of his jokes, he shouted blindly, but on the other hand, maybe he had just leg pain. Besides, I quite understand that he doesn't want to tell Cuddy and the hospital management, that his patient could be dangerous. After all, it isn’t the first time that we treat a dangerous person, or when we are concealing information and covering the House. If he had said it to Cuddy, she would have to report it to the police, and House would lose his case,” Forman's colleague explained.

“Yeah and since what time, Cuddy will not meet Haous's whims? He could, as always, persuaded her. Moreover, it would be hard for them to take the patient from us. It doesn't matter if he is criminal or a victim, he needs medical attention,” Foreman said.

“Cuddy wouldn't endanger the hospital,” Chase said.

“Cuddy would endanger the hospital if House gave her a good reason, but let it go. The most ridiculous are these tests. The patient, despite his injuries, he's fine, has no other symptoms to show that he has anything undesirable in his body. There is no reason to think anything else,” Foreman said.

“You mean the bullet in the body is not enough proof that somebody wanted to kill him?”

“I mean: why shoot someone when you've poisoned him already?” Foreman logically argued.

“I don't know, to make sure?” Chase shrugged. Formen snorted. “Okay, okay, I admit it's weird, but not impossible. I would definitely not say that, just because I don't want to do all the tests.”

“Are you saying I'm a lazy?! Now you just acknowledged that I was right.”

“You are right!?” Chase said sarcastically. “Sure!”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Cameron, what do you think? You are the only one who was with the patient and saw his injuries. Is it weird or just normally weird?” Chase turned to a doctor, who was still silent at this time. She looked up and looked at those two.

“I think…” she said, taking a dramatic pause. There was nothing to tell from her face what she was going to say, and she thought carefully. “I think that House did well, when he ordered the tests, just as he took this case and decided to hide it,” she finally said. But her tone was glassy and serious. She said it in a deeper tone than normal, without emotion. She didn't say why she thinks so. She did not say anything, and that gave her words even more weight and a touch of unpleasant secrets. Chase and Foreman really got a bad feeling about it.

At the same moment, their boss entered the laboratory and began to yell.

“You idiots! Which one of you was such an immense jackass that he just couldn't let go and he had to run right behind Wilson?!” Chase, Foreman, and Cameron looked uncertainty, but none of them had the courage to confess. “Who else know it?” None of House's teams said anything, just they were waiting, that he punch them by stick, but that didn't happen. House murmured a curse, and then, without a single word, he shuffled away.

There was a long silence that was broken by Foreman with his: “I have something... Oh, my God!”


	6. 6

The patient woke up to the hospital beep and with headache. He was disoriented for a while. His recent memories were about torture, escape, and a jump with a parachute from the Empire State Building. What followed after the jump, he didn't know. With those memories, his pressure rose and his heart started to go faster, that calling one of the nurses in the corridor.

She went into the room, but she didn't know what to do. The patient looked good at his condition, actually better than a few hours ago when he was calm and asleep.

“You are awake,” she said surprised.

“Wow, don't say that. I wouldn't recognize it without you,” the young man grinned, and the nurse thought that it was just as ghostly as the sarcasm and the grin of unnamed doctor with a stick. But this idea quickly moved deeply far into her mind. “Where am I?” the patient immediately wanted to know and looked on her by his brown eyes. To say that his eyes were warm and sincere, but unhealthy serious, and didn't fit for his age, were unnatural, saw too much, it would be just a repetition of the famous phrase. Eyes don't tell you anything by themselves unless they are accompanied by other expressions such as tears, facial expressions, words, or gestures, but there are times when we have nothing like that, and we can even sense the danger like animals. Nurse sensed this danger as soon as the brown eyes measured her from head to foot. It was irrational. He was a patient, barely in consciousness, in a hospital full of people, he was alone in nothing, only in a hospital flowered shirt. Nurse had no way of getting rid of that feeling, though she knew all this.

“Y-Yo-You are at P-Pr-Princeton-Plainsboro T-Teaching H-Ho-Hospital in-in Ne-New J-Jersey,” she stoked.

The young man looked around the room, nodding to the point of trusting the answer. “Well, if it is, I want to see Snake,” he demanded.

“Snake? You saw a snake?” nurse said with scare. The request made no sense. The young man probably had a damaged brain. She wouldn't be surprised.

“Yes, Snake, where is he?” he insisted. A nurse in such a situation should call the doctors and run for help, but for some reason she couldn't move. It was as if his eyes tack her in to floor. “Snake, man, doctor, blue eyes, gray hair, sarcastic, crazy with no respect for any authority. According to the latest information, he walks with stick and lead a diagnostic department here,” he finally explained.

“You think Dr. House,” Finally, the nurse understood it.

“Hmmm, perhaps, if it corresponds to the description ... I want to talk to him.”

“Sure, you woke up now. Dr. House is your attending doctor, he will definitely visit you after a while,” the nurse babbling, though she doubted it. It was generally known that Dr. House visits his patients only if he have to.

“Didn't you understand me?! I want to talk to him. Right now!” he shouted.

“Yes, I'll tell him,” she whispered in fear, and quickly disappeared from the room toward the House's Office.


	7. 7

Dr. House sat in his office with legs on the table, in his hands the blue jojo he was playing with, and in his lap was the red medical report he had recovered by blackmail from Alex's doctor from St. Dominic's Hospital. For once he didn't think, didn't seek the answer to a puzzle, for once he was just angry, horrified, impatient and nervous. Waiting for the results of the tests or for waking up was debilitating. He felt the sense of anger from total helplessness, which rose proportionally with the waiting time and the line of medical report he had read. If he didn't have to, he wouldn't read it, but in the end he was pushed by curiosity and necessity. He had to know, as his doctor, what he had already done. But that didn't change the fact that he was horrified.

His former colleague and senior, whom he met at the Brecon Beacons army training camp for SAS soldiers, went through real hell. He clearly heard Wolf and Fox stories from the missions, when they and the young man again met, out how much he had done and how it changed him. He himself personally met him and the pupil taught the teacher. One thing, however, was to listen to the heroic deeds that the boy had done, to work with him, and the second thing was to see the tax, which the service for the government had on the young man.

House was so intrigued and thoughtful about his old friend that he had not even noticed that someone had come in. Chase had cleared his throat, and House found that he was no longer alone. Dr. Chase gave him the test results and nervously trampled on the spot.

“Well, otherwise he's more or less healthy. These are great news,” House smiled above the test results.

“More or less healthy!” Chase snapped. “That boy was bitten by scorpion and not just any scorpion… The most unique species, and then he was given an antibody. He also had strong narcotics in the body. He was beaten, tortured, and not just...!”

“Yes, I know, but it is not essential to his treatment. Those substances leave him alone in a few days. In two weeks we can get him out of the hospital,” said House with a cold calmness.

“You aren't surprise in the least!” he attacked him and grabbed him by the shirt at his neck.

“You're right, I'm not,” House admitted. Of course, it didn't surprise him. Not, when it was about the Cub, not, when he read his folder.

“It is unbelievable!” Chase shook his head in shock by over House's anti-sensitivity to others. “I understood you were interested. You always like to reveal the secrets. That's why you took him, and that's why you didn't want someone else to be hurt to hinder us at work, but that's too much. This time it went too far. You have to tell Cuddy and call the police.”

“Why? You had already done it behind me,” House shrugged his shoulders. Chase gasped. He had no idea that the truth would turn out so quickly.

“What?”

“Formen is too loyal and curious ... and Cameron loves me, plus she was the one who took his blood and looked at him. She is too sensitive to revealed him and exposed him to the stress. So there are only you. When I don't count your nervousness, when you came here, and your artificial ones: "I understand House in this situation." This is actually unjustified, only guilty, because you can't understand when you have no facts and I didn't tell you anything. Moreover, I know very well that you are a rat and the results you brought, not Formen, who made those positive tests. It's just strange that you told Wilson and not Cuddy. Cameron or Cuddy would go for Wilson…” House thought.

Chase hesitated if he really had to confess the whole truth, but finally he accept that House already knew most of it and whole truth couldn't get him into more trouble. “Also, I didn't. I told Cuddy, and she had to go for Wilson, who went right for the source of that mess. But what do you think we can hide a man like him...”

“Kind of a man like him?! No one is like him! You have no idea who he is. So please…” House screamed again when his voice failed at the last sentence and paused for a moment. “But you have only the luck that you are right. He was bitten by scorpion. He was bitten by the Scorpia. I have to report it if I want he to be safe ... and it's all just from mud to puddle than anything else,” House said to himself rather than to Chase, who didn't understand the statement, except for the positive news that House wouldn't fire him.

House stretched out to the cell phone lying on his desk. Chase wanted to leave, but eventually decided to stay. Whom did he want to announce now? What did he say about the scorpion? Chase gazed curiously at House as he searched the phone book and then put the cell phone to his ear. He stood so close to House to hear not just what House says, but also what the person says at the other end of the line. He thought he'd finally learn something, but he was so surprised, when he heard: “Royal & General Bank, how can I help you?”

“I want to leave a message for Mrs. Jones,” House replied calmly.

“I'm sorry, nobody with this name works here,” the woman answered at the other end, but it did not sound too convincing or surprised.

“It doesn't matter. Tell her this. The rider was bitten by the scorpion on his long wayfaring, but as the rider wasn't a fool, he immediately sought help from a poison-aware snake. The snake took him and began to heal him, but he is afraid that Cub will not wake up or if the scorpion will attack him again.”

“Yes, thank you for your contribution. Rely on, that if the woman of this name appears here, I'll say it to her,” the woman promised.

“Thank you, goodbye,” House murmured.

“Goodbye, have a nice day,” the woman said.

Chase blinked blankly. But he didn't have the time to take that absurd conversation, let alone try to speculate what it all meant, because one of nurse had come to the room. Nurse was familiar to Chase. Perhaps she was the one that House had poisoned last week to prove he was right in the diagnosis, but he was not sure. She wore a long, white cloak, a traditional nursing suit, and big square glasses over her entire face, strangely matched with her red-hot, curly hair.

“Doctor, he woke up. Your patient woke up and wants to talk to you... so...” Nurse hesitated. “He said he wanted to talk to Snake, but when he told me how that person named Snake had looked, he responded to that description,” she explained.

“Yeah, I'll be there,” he promised, but the nurse didn't trust him.

“He said ‘right now’. He didn't seem to accept any discussion, probably it is urgent,” she warned House to hurry. Chase expected for House to have one of her ironic notes again to say something in the sense that it would only be urgent if the patient was on pain in his bed, his heart stopped, he stopping to breathe, and that everything without the visible and expected cause. But House didn't say anything. He just grabbed his stick and without a word began to “run”, just as his sick leg allowed him, to the room of his patient. Dr. Chase followed him.

But when they stood in front of the patient's room and Chase wanted to enter, House stopped him. House the second end of his stick nudged to him with words: “I'm sorry, this interview is probably not meant for anyone who doesn't know, let alone rats like you.” And with that, House slammed the door behind him and put down all the blinds in the room, so Chase had completely lost sight of what was going on in the poor patient's room. For a moment he stood there, staring on the doors the room in which his crazy boss was. On the one hand, he understood why House didn't allow him to enter, but he was angry at the other. Well, House was still angry with him for revealing that patient to Cuddy, but that didn't give him the right. It's his patient too! Besides his strange behavior, the absurd message and the nicknames... Snake. That was perfect for House, but why did he call him a young man like that? The two had to know each other. Snake nickname like from a scout camp, perhaps they both participated it? Chase laughed at the thought, but then he became more serious again when he realized that snake also was in the nursery rhyme, which House had left for women J... Jon... Jonezon... or whatever his name was. Is this a connection? Did House talk about himself? How was that nursery rhyme? It was becoming more and more strange.

Dr. Chase kicked angrily and frustrated into the imaginary can and set out for Cuddy. She wanted to hear everything what he knows about House. And what's worse than angry boss? Make to angry the boss of your boss.


	8. 8

House entered the room. He closed the door just before Dr. Chase nose, lowered the shutters and looked at the young man standing by the window. Yes, he stood. Boy disconnected himself from all the devices and stood up. That wasn't very good for his health.

“You should lie in bed,” House reminded him without an introduction.

“You know how I hate hospitals,” he defended himself. “But I'm glad to see you again”

“It's not mutual,” House said honestly. “Are you still working for the bastards?” he said it as a question, but more than the question it was the statement.

“You know very well that, I'm too good in my work, they never let me go.”

House nodded sadly. “So what can we expect?”

“Expect?” the blonde blinked in surprise.

“When you appear, it isn't just so. I'm sorry to say it, but your companions are fear, death and suffering. You're not native American, though you'll be as much as you want to use your perfect American accent,” House began.

“Not even you. Where is your Scottish accent?” the young man asked. But House ignored him.

“You're a damn Brit and a bloody spy, Rider, and I really don't believe that you were on holiday here and the thief tried to rob you.”

“No, you're right. It wasn't happen,” confirmed Agent Rider. “Yes, I'm here on business trip, but you don't need to worry.”

“I don't have to be afraid! Alex, you're here on business trip. You come to my door for help, when you collapsed and was half-dead... and now you're telling me: don't worry!?”

“I thought you did not have to worry about the hospital and the people in here,” a young spy explained.

“Good,” the doctor nodded.

“Did you already call Mrs. Jones?”

“Alex, I... I know. I and Ben sometimes go in bar for a drink. He told me about blackmail, Brecon Beacons, and Jack... I'm sorry,” House expressed his sympathy with the boy's loss.

“So did you call her?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” House confessed. “But I didn't tell her about your state. If we play well, I can offer you freedom. I can falsify the medical report and records. I now have a few contacts on people who could get a new identity, and none of the bastards would know about it. Alex Rider would have died, and Alex Palmer, or whatever you would like to name, would begin his life as ordinary man. You could go back in the shadow. You will become a mere legend,” House offered excitedly.

“I can’t,” Alex replied with a heavy heart.

“Why not?” House didn't understand. Because I'm the only one now standing between…” Alex walked over to the chair, on which were the dresses, which he wearing the day he knocked on House's door, and pulled out a small plastic tube with some red liquid from his jeans pocket. House didn't doubt it was blood. “Between this and two million people. I suppose there is a deadly virus in it, but it cannot be detected by normal tests. I didn't come to you because of that gun shot and a few fractures, but because of this.”

“Damn Cub, You said that, I don’t have to worry,” the doctor was angry.

“No. I said that don't worry about in the hospital,” Alex corrected him, pausing for a moment. I just hope I have not been unconscious for too long, it's not too late. Perhaps not. What day is it? And what time?”

“It is May 2nd. 2013 and 19:37,” House replied.

“Well on May 2nd, Andrue Black is dead, but his plan may still come out. The virus gets into the circulatory system of two million people on 1 June. We have 29 days, of which the incubation time lasts at most 13 days, which is 16 days, after the incubation time when everything is not as it is and I will get sick, you will still have 5 days before I die and after my death 11 days to extract antibodies from my body. When everything goes according to plan, we will have 15 days to extract and save the remaining two million lives. That's fine, you decide more time than usual,” spy counted quickly. “Okay, well, give me the injection syringe!” young man ordered.

“What? What do you want to do?” House asked cautiously.

“Spraying the virus into the body, of course, otherwise we will not get the antibodies and these people will die,” Alex wryly answered, and waved his hand.

“Of course! Of course you want to spray the deadly virus into your body! Are you kidding me?!” House shouted.

“Yes, and now give me the injection syringe,” Alex ordered.

“No.”

“As your superior, I command you.”

“No, you are not my superior, not anymore,” House opposed.

“It doesn't matter. Two million people die,” Alex developed pressure on House.

“I don't care about two million people. I care about you,” the doctor shouted to his patient.

“Nothing happens to me, I have injected a single dose against the virus. But the only way how to get antidote from me, it is that I get the virus in to my blood too. Don't worry, I'll be fine,” Alex said.

“You can guarantee it. You're weak with those fractures, gunshot wound, and scorpion venom. Maybe you have antibodies in your body, but can you guarantee me that if you are so weakened, then these substances still save you from the virus?” House couldn't be discouraged.

“No,” Alex admitted. “But I have no other option. I will do it, whether you want it or not. You can't stop me. So either you can be there and have it under control as you can, or not.”

House sighed and waved his hand. “So do it.”


End file.
